Would I normally think of visiting an island named by a Dutch explorer, in 1696, as Rotte-nest, meaning Rats’nest? No, but when I learned that the king-sized rats on the island are actually Quokkas, cute otter-like marsupials, and the island is a breathtaking wildlife reserve, just a short ferry ride off the coast of Perth in Western Australia, I decided it was a definite must to visit.

Today most people come to Rottnest Island to snorkel, swim, surf, dive, or fish. Intrigued by what I had heard about Rottnest, I took the 30-minute ferry ride from Freemantle across the brilliant blue Indian Ocean to the island to discover something about its past and to savour some of its delights.

Once the ferry docked, I had early morning tea and cookies on the Dome’s outside deck as I decided on a place to stay. Camping or renting a cottage was not in my plans. That left me with three options: Youth Hostel, Rottnest Hotel or Rottnest Lodge. A fellow tea drinker told me the story about Rottnest Lodge: a colonial barracks, built by convicts, had become an Aboriginal prison and, later, a boys’ reformatory school before its renovation into the Lodge. I was hooked. Sleeping in the echoes of history appealed to me. I did wonder whether a stark cell-like room would clip the wings of sleep. Night would tell.

I strolled over to Rottnest Lodge, heading for the octagonal Quod (slang for prison) - a building, constructed in 1864, where cells are now hotel rooms. The Quod is stark - a narrow, prim, ochre building circling a balding green lawn. I found the lobby and asked to see a room. The Quod’s former cells were predictably small and dark, relieved only by the light of one narrow window and bright decorative materials. I reserved one for the coming night.

That sun-filled day was jammed. I learned about the historic buildings around Thomson Bay from a walking tour guide. The buildings are some of the oldest in Australia. The old community had been self-sufficient and a world to itself. Now, even with Island visitors bustling about in the Australian spring morning, I had a lingering sense of what life was like in days past.

No cars are allowed on the Island. With my decision to ride a local bus rather than bike the island, I quickly got a view of jewel-bright turquoise waters lapping on sandy shores of coves and beaches, as well as some of the 12,000 or so Quokkas on the island. Quokkas are special. They produce a litter, mate and hold a second embryo for up to five years before giving birth again. Some Quokkas on the Island are quite tame. When I went up to a General Store Quokkas lingered around me, waiting for tidbits of food.

Following a hike out to Lookout Hill I was so warm that I returned to the Lodge to swim and eat grilled fish in the soft sunlight around the pool. Later, as I drifted into dreams, a kaleidoscope of the island’s images spilled over my consciousness. I awoke, fresh in the early sunrays, with a sleep-nurtured understanding. On Rottnest, rats actually are Quokkas; a prison had become a hotel; and an island, once used to isolate men and boys from others, turns into a place that attracts many people. The past might sleep on Rottnest Island, but the present is a treasure to explore and dream on.

About the photos:
Top: Over coffee at the Dome deciding where to sleep.
Middle: My choice. Rottnest Lodge.
Bottom: The turquoise Indian Ocean carresses pristine Sandy Beach.